


you've been drinking like the world was gonna end

by AFireInTheAttic



Series: Quote Meme Prompts [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Agender Character, F/F, Monster of the Week, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-09-05
Packaged: 2018-04-19 05:53:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4734983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AFireInTheAttic/pseuds/AFireInTheAttic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lydia groans in front of the freezer. They’re out of ice.</p><p>Of course, this is no surprise. She knows who she could blame: Kira, for starting the whole thing by filling a bowl of ice and running cubes over her skin until she cooled down enough to sit still for five seconds. Or maybe Allison for announcing that the quickest way to cool down was to ice down armpits—or crotches. Both of them, maybe, for experimenting on each other to see which method worked faster.</p><p>But no, she knows the real person to blame is herself, for not putting a stop to the nonsense.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you've been drinking like the world was gonna end

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disappointionist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointionist/gifts).



> miladyhuntress asked: "There's a humming in the restless summer air." for Allydia perhaps? Or Allison/Lydia/Kira.
> 
> Malia is agender and uses they/them/theirs/theirself pronouns.

Lydia groans in front of the freezer. They’re out of ice.

Of course, this is no surprise. She knows who she could blame: Kira, for starting the whole thing by filling a bowl of ice and running cubes over her skin until she cooled down enough to sit still for five seconds. Or maybe Allison for announcing that the quickest way to cool down was to ice down armpits—or crotches. Both of them, maybe, for experimenting on each other to see which method worked faster.

But no, she knows the real person to blame is herself, for not putting a stop to the nonsense.

She sighs and turns on the ice maker. There’s no reason to linger in front of the open freezer any longer—no environmentally sound reason, anyway—but she does, for just a short moment longer.

“What are you doing?” Kira chirps as she walks into the kitchen. She’s topless and the crotch of her cut off jean shorts are still wet from the melting of ice.

Lydia admires the view shamelessly. If the two of them got themselves into this mess, the least they can do is show off for her. And lucky for her, it’s what they live for. “I’m mourning the loss of ice cubes,” she says. She does close the freezer, but she does so sorrowfully. The cool air was really the only thing keeping her from following after Kira and stripping down. Wearing a sundress is nice and all, but nudity sounds a lot better.

Except nudity would lead to sex. And sex is hot, but also  _hot_ , you know? Lydia does not want to be _hot_.

Kira looks up at the ceiling in false innocence. “Right. Anyway. Allison found a fan in your attic. She plugged it in and it still worked—want to come make out in front of it?”

She does. Except—“Too hot.”

“That’s what the fan is for.”

“Yeah, but skin-to-skin contact is—“

“Hot?”

She rolls her eyes. “Exactly.”

Kira shrugs. “You should have tried icing your armpits. Then you’d get to make out with me and Allison.”

“Allison and me,” she corrects thoughtlessly, though she doesn’t really care. She’s been tutoring Malia in English and it’s almost automatic to correct colloquialisms at this point.

Kira just shrugs, though, apparently unfazed. “You coming or not?”

It’s not a hard decision to make, really. There’s no where else in the lake house that’s cool—not since her mom quit paying for A/C when no one was interested in buying (probably because of the big hole in the wall they have to fix).

Plus the two of them will probably make out. She’s interested.

* * *

In the bedroom with the wide window, Allison is spread out across the bed. She’s dressed like Kira except that she’s wearing green athletic shorts instead of jeans.

Lydia hums appreciatively as Kira climbs on top of Allison and kisses her, hard. Allison returns the kiss easily enough, but Kira rolls off of her after a minute to bask in the fan with her.

The fan is blowing at it’s highest speed—hard enough that the bed sheets are actually rustling. She can see the sweat cooling on Allison’s breasts and the goosebumps rising all over Kira’s arms and stomach.

She sighs. “You two are so pretty.”

Allison laughs a little, rolling her head to look at the redhead. “Come here, D.”

“I hate it when you call me that. It doesn’t even make sense,” Lydia says, but she goes to the bed anyway. She’s never really bothered resisting Allison’s beckoning, even when she  _is_ wearing clothes.

“It makes sense!” Allison insists, but she’s laughing.

“Lid-DEE-yah,” Kira pipes in. She rolls to her side so she can see Lydia standing over them.

She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, but she doesn’t protest any more. She’s not one for nicknames, even if everyone  _does_ want to give her one. First it was Ariel, then Stiles briefly attempted to call her “Lyds,” and now this. “D.” It’s weird enough that Allison and Kira call each other “A” and “K;” there’s no reason to include her in this.

But, silly as it is… It’s Kira and Allison. Allison and Kira. Allison, the first girl she ever loved and Kira, the one who made her realize there was more than just hetero and homo.

She can forgive them for something so small, so benign. She does, after all, love them.

“Wanna fool around, D?” Allison asks. She reaches out so she can run a hand up Lydia’s thigh, grinning in delight when she discovers Lydia had ditched her panties hours ago.

Kira nuzzles into Allison’s neck. “I do.” She tweaks Allison’s right nipple.

Allison makes that stupid o-face—she’s so easy to get a reaction from, something neither of them ever get tired of. She looks up at Lydia through hooded eyes. “Please?”

She’s opening her mouth to say yes, heat be damned, when her phone rings, the shrill tone splitting through the buzzing air. “Fuck,” she sighs, and goes to pick it up. They have a strict policy to  _always_ answer the phone now, ever since Liam had a panic attack when he couldn’t reach anyone in the pack and thought they were all dead. It’s sweet what Scott is willing to do for the youngest member of the pack, but annoying as hell in times like these.

“What is it?” she says curtly.

“Scott’s being attacked by a bear—possibly some kind of forest spirit—and he wants help from Kira and Allison. Also can you figure out it’s weaknesses?” Isaac is babbling. Never a good sign.

“Fuck,” she says again, and then, “We’ll be there soon.” She hangs up the phone. To Allison and Kira, she says, “Get dressed and grab your weapons, girls. We have to rescue Scott and Isaac again.”

Personally, she needs to put on some underwear and find the tablet with the bestiary. At this point she should be known as an expert on the supernatural, given that she’s translated a significant amount from Latin to English (which is not fucking easy,  _Stiles_ ) and has added a lot of her own notes from her (strictly scientific, thanks) observations.

She does get tired of this shit, though.

“Whose idea was it to turn this town into a beacon again?” she asks when everyone is seated inside her car.

Kira snorts from the backseat and Allison glares at her. “Drive.”

* * *

It’s easy enough to follow the trail of destruction in the preserve to the battle zone.

Lydia plops herself next to Liam, who is carefully trying to extract a tree branch from his stomach. It hadn’t gone all the way through, thankfully, but it’s still gross. “You’re a trooper,” she says flatly, though she  _is_ impressed. Abandonment issues aside, the kid has a really solid grasp on shit nowadays. Sure, he’s crying, but he’s not projecting that panic onto anyone else—more than she can say for Isaac, who is still making phone calls.

So. Bear spirits. She watches the thing fight with Scott for a few minutes—every once in a while, Isaac will dive back into the fray, only to get tossed aside. She guesses that’s probably what happened to Liam, too—just with worse results.

Malia is crouching behind a tree, apparently uninterested in joining the fray. They notice Lydia and perk up, darting over to stand near her. “I already know who it is,” they say.

“Who?” she repeats, frowning. “I’m more interested in  _what_. Scott’s the one who cares about identities and personalities.” Lydia is the morally grey one in the pack and she’s fine with that.

“Okay, sure, but Elporti isn’t a  _what_. They’re…Elporti.”

“They’re?”

“They’re genderless, like me,” Malia says with a shrug. “Except they’re allowed to kill you if you insist that they’re a girl.” The last part is said with a glower.

Lydia types “Elporti” into the tablet search function. She can’t remember translating that part, which means she’ll have to translate it from the original Latin on the go. Which sucks.

Of course, having to translate it is less horrible than finding nothing at all.

She looks up at Malia, a little panicked herself now. “Okay—Elporti. Do you know what they want from Scott? And how do you know them?”

“Elporti and I are friends. We spent winters together. And that’s probably what they want from Scott, too,” they suggest, frowning at the fight. “Probably Scott just doesn’t understand how bear spirits extend offers of friendship.”

“Which is how?”

“Like that,” they say, pointing at the fight.

“So we came for nothing?” She sighs. She should have expected as much.

On the ground next to her, Liam asks pitifully, “Can I go home?”

“Did you get all the branches out of you?” Malia asks, kneeling next to him and examining his stomach. It hasn’t healed yet, but it looks fairly clean, for a werewolf-related injury.

Across the clearing, Isaac gets thrown into a tree again.

“He just doesn’t learn,” Malia comments, and helps Liam to his feet. “Let’s go.” They leave the fight without looking back, though Liam looks a little concerned when he looks over his shoulder.

Lydia waves him off and calls Isaac over to her. “Apparently this is normal,” she tells him. “Scott is making a friend. Quit jumping in or you’ll just keep getting hurt.”

“How do you know?”

“Malia told me. And I don’t know about you, but I trust them about elemental forest stuff, okay?”

“Sure,” Isaac says slowly, and sinks to sit next to her.

She calls for Kira and Allison next. The two of them were smarter about attacking things and had been observing and looking for weaknesses. When they hear what’s going on they sigh and start walking back to the car, which means Lydia is the one who’s going to have to call of Stiles, who is apparently going to hit Elporti with a branch. Dumbass.

* * *

Several hours later, after Scott has finally made peace with Elporti (there may be an agreement for the two to nap together), Lydia finally makes it back to the lake house. Allison and Kira had fallen asleep in the backseat of the car by the time she made it to them, and she’d been annoyed to see that Kira’s jeans were undone and only haphazardly pulled up. They hadn’t waited for her. Jerks.

Still, she knows they’ll make it up to her, if she asks  _very_ nicely.

And she does love it when they have something to make up to her.


End file.
